On the morning of January 28, 1986, the space shuttle Challenger exploded shortly after lifting off. All seven crew members were killed. Ronald McNair was one of the astronauts aboard the shuttle that day. Here, his older brother, Carl McNair, remembers him.

From the 1940s through the 1960s, the Catskill Mountains in upstate New York were a popular summer escape from New York City. The resorts needed entertainment, and talent agents like Jack Segal made their living booking comedians, singers, and novelty acts there.

Father Michael Duffy talks about how he came to give the homily at the funeral of his friend, Father Mychal Judge, the first official victim of the September 11, 2001 attacks on the World Trade Center.

When Earl Reynolds Jr. was 11 years old, he shined shoes at his father's barbershop in Roanoke, Va. Here he tells his daughter, Ashley, about a valuable lesson he learned from a customer -- the late James Brown.

Thomas Morris was a U.S. Postal Service worker for 28 years. He was working in Washington D.C. when anthrax laced letters targeting senators and major media outlets appeared in the mail. He was one of two postal workers who died in October 2001 as a result of these biochemical attacks. His widow, Mary Morris, came to StoryCorps to remember their life together–starting with the day they met at a family funeral.

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In 1990, Ayodeji Ogunniyi left Nigeria, along with his mother and brother, to come to the United States. They arrived in Chicago, joining Ayodeji’s father, Abimbola “Yinka” Ogunniyi, who’d arrived a few years earlier, and was working as a cab driver.

Abimbola always wanted Ayodeji to be a doctor. But while Ayodeji was studying pre-med in college, his father was murdered on the job.

At StoryCorps, Ayodeji talked about how his father’s death changed the course of his life.

When John Hunter started teaching more than 30 years ago, he wanted to get his students to think about major world issues.

So he invented the World Peace Game. Students are divided into countries, then Hunter gives them a series of global crises — natural disasters, political conflicts — that they solve by collaborating with each other.

Hunter’s classes are remarkably successful at resolving the crises peacefully, a fact made all the more remarkable because his students are in 4th grade.

Hunter recently sat down for StoryCorps with a two former World Peace Game players: 11-year-old Julianne Swope and 20-year-old Irene Newman.

Many veterans seek out the West Los Angeles Veterans Affairs Hospital in hopes of feeling better. Thanks to Anthony Bravo Esparza — known to his friends as “Dreamer” — those veterans often end up looking better, too.

Since the 1970s, Dreamer, a veteran himself, has been giving free haircuts to vets.

He can be found in a red, white, and blue painted trailer parked at the VA, where he averages about 200 haircuts a month.

In 2004, Kate Musick was teaching third grade at T.C. Walker Elementary school in Gloucester, Virginia. When Harleé Patrick walked into the room, Musick saw a troubled child.

Harleé is now a teenager, and the two came to StoryCorps to talk about how she made it through that year.

The second story comes from Los Angeles, where 19-year-old Jose Catalan, who is studying to become a math teacher, sat down with his former high school teacher Carlos Vizcarra to talk about how they became friends.

Tyrese Graham is a second year science teacher at John Marshall Metropolitan High School on the West Side of Chicago. When he started teaching, Marshall was among the worst public schools in the city. At StoryCorps, Tyrese talked about his first day on the job.

In late June 2014, county clerks in Colorado challenged a ban on same-sex marriage by issuing marriage licenses to gay and lesbian couples. The state attorney general has ordered them to stop, and the case has reached the Colorado Supreme Court.

But few know that this is history repeating itself.

Back in 1975, Clela Rorex was the newly-elected County Clerk in Boulder when she began issuing marriage licenses to same sex couples.

At StoryCorps, Clela (R) told her friend, Sue Larson (L), that it started one day when two men came to her office door.

On the day this story was broadcast, the Colorado Supreme Court ordered County Clerks in the state to stop issuing marriage licenses to same-sex couples.

As a teenager, Alton Yates (L) did a job that helped send people into space.

In the mid-1950s, before NASA existed, Yates was part of a small group of Air Force volunteers who tested the effects of high speeds on the body. They were strapped to rocket-propelled sleds that hurtled down a track at more 600 miles per hour and stopped in a matter of seconds. These experiments helped prove that space travel was safe for humans.

At StoryCorps, Yates told his daughter, Toni, that — for him — the story starts in high school, shortly after his mother died.

After leaving the Air Force in 1959, Alton Yates became involved with the Civil Rights Movement in his hometown of Jacksonville, FL. On August 27, 1960, he attended a sit-in that turned violent, and became known as Ax Handle Day.

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Miguel Alvarez (L) and Maurice Rowland (R) remember caring for residents at an assisted living home, where they were a janitor and a cook, when it closed suddenly, leaving many elderly residents abandoned.

In 2013, Maurice Rowland (R) was working as a cook at Valley Springs Manor, an assisted living home for elderly residents in California. He got his friend Miguel Alvarez (L) a job there as a janitor last fall.

But in October of that year the company that managed the home suddenly shut it down, leaving many of the elderly residents with nowhere to go.

The staff stopped being paid so they all left, except for Maurice and Miguel.

At StoryCorps they remembered caring for abandoned residents until the fire department and sheriff took over three days later.

The incident led to legislation in California known as the Residential Care for the Elderly Reform Act of 2014.

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Burnell Cotlon owns and operates the only grocery store in the Lower Ninth Ward. When it opened in 2014, it was the first grocery store to serve that neighborhood since Hurricane Katrina. Here, he speaks with his mother, Lillie.

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Tyra Treadway and her daughter, Ardyn, remember their husband and father, Dr. James Kent Treadway, a beloved pediatrician in New Orleans. Dr. Treadway committed suicide three months after Hurricane Katrina.

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In 1995, two armed men forced Janette Fennell and her husband Greig into the trunk of the Fennell's car. The men drove off with Janette believing that her infant son, Alex, was still in the car in his car seat. Twenty years after surviving the kidnapping, Janette and Alex came to StoryCorps.

Days before Halloween in 1995, Janette Fennell, her husband Greig, and their 9-month-old son Alex arrived home from a night out with friends. After pulling into the garage of their San Francisco home, they were confronted by two armed men who forced the couple at gunpoint into the trunk of the Fennell’s car and drove away.

During the several-hour ordeal, which the family survived, both Janette and Greig believed that Alex was still in the backseat of the car in his car seat were they had left him.

The carjackers were never caught, but Janette and her husband continued to drive the car they were kidnapped in for several years.

Alex, now in college, sat down for StoryCorps with his mom to talk about the experience.

Janette went on to devote herself to improving car safety by founding a nonprofit that lobbies for car safety reform. Due to her efforts, emergency trunk releases are now standard equipment on all new cars. She has also worked on legislation requiring child safe windows and rear view cameras on all cars.

Since 2003, we have broadcast hundreds of conversations that were recorded in booths across the country, but this week, for the first time, we present one recorded in the front seat of a 1994 Buick.

Last month, Kara Masteller, 21, and her grandfather James Kennicott, sat together in a Waterloo, Iowa, mall parking lot and conducted a StoryCorps interview. They chose this location because James, who is 86 and resides in a local senior living facility, had no interested in sharing his business with any of the other people who live alongside him.

Their 16-minute long interview begins simply with Kara saying to her grandfather, “Tell me about yourself, where did you grow up?”

From there, Kara, the youngest of James’ 10 grandchildren, was able to get a man she described as unaccustomed to opening up about his life to briefly discuss his difficult upbringing. He then talked in greater detail about his beloved wife, Annie, who passed away in 2012, his work as a supervisor at the John Deere factory, the loss of his eldest son Chuck who suffered with Lou Gehrig’s disease, as well as his thoughts on life and advice for others as they age.

In a separate interview with StoryCorps, Kara, a senior at the University of Iowa, remembered her grandfather as once being an intimidating figure in her life, but as they have both grown older and maintained their close relationship, she now sees him as fun, protective, and loving. He’s a man who enjoys joking around, dancing, shooting pool, and playing the penny slots at a local casino.

During their conversation, James also offers Kara advice on a happy marriage, “You gotta kinda like each other…if something happened just say ‘I’m sorry’ and get it over with and make up,” because “when you get married, it’s kind of like the two of you are one. You think the same.” And on life in general, advising her to “keep it so the days don’t just go by and that’s all there is, a boring old day…let life roll on…it goes fast.” You need to “roll with age, don’t worry about it, it’s coming. Enjoy life, it’s wonderful.”

According to Kara, after their recording ended, James continued to share memories with her about Annie before they grabbed a cup of coffee and headed over to the casino to play the penny slots together.

Marge Klindera spent decades teaching home economics to Illinois middle and high school students. As she was transitioning into retirement, she began looking for other ways to share her years of knowledge and experience. In 1983, she began working at a seasonal call center—answering questions from those needing last-minute information on cooking a turkey.

Each Thanksgiving, for more than 30 years, Butterball has run their Turkey Talk-Line. Operating from October to December, trained professionals like Marge answer thousands of turkey related questions from home cooks across the United States and Canada.

At StoryCorps, Marge, 79, sat down with her longtime coworker, Carol Miller, 68, to remember some of the best callers they have had, as well as some of the best advice they have dished out.

In the early 1980s, Tom Graziano and his wife adopted an almost 2-year-old boy named John. As a child, he was constantly sick, but doctors where never able to determine why.

In 1986, when John was in the second grade at Central Elementary School in Wilmette, Illinois, his parents discovered the reason for his health problems—John was HIV positive having contracted the disease from his biological mother.

At StoryCorps, Tom sat down with John’s elementary school principal, Paul Nilsen, to discuss the reaction of other students attending the school and among members of their suburban Chicago community to John during the AIDS epidemic in America.

In February 1968, the children’s television program “Mister Rogers’ Neighborhood” debuted nationally.

Besides its eponymous creator, the show also featured a cast of characters from Mister Rogers’ make--believe world (King Friday XIII, Daniel Striped Tiger, and Bob Dog), and his “real” world (Mr. and Mrs. McFeely, Lady Aberlin, and Handyman Negri).

François Clemmons was cast in the “real” world as Officer Clemmons.

Fred Rogers met François in 1968 after hearing him sing in a Pittsburgh--area church they both attended. He was so impressed with his voice that he asked him to join the show. At the time, François was a graduate student working on getting his singing career going and was reluctant to accept Fred’s offer. But after realizing he would get paid to appear on the show—enabling him to afford his rent—François accepted, becoming the first African American actor to have a recurring role on a children’s television series.

For 25 years François appeared on the show while maintaining a separate career as a professional singer. In 1973, his performance with the Cleveland Orchestra earned him a Grammy Award and his love of spiritual music later led him to found the Harlem Spiritual Ensemble. He also spent 16 years as an artist--in--residence at Middlebury College in Vermont until his retirement in 2013.

François came to StoryCorps with his friend, Karl Lindholm (pictured together above), to discuss how he became the friendly singing Officer Clemmons, and his relationship with the man known to children as Mister Rogers.

Dick Titus and Zeek Taylor met in Memphis, Tennessee, in 1971. Zeek was openly gay having already come out to his friends and family, but Dick was still in the closet with the added burden of having his family living close by.

In order for the two of them to be together, they decided to leave Memphis and move to Fayetteville, Arkansas, a city that would put some distance between Dick and his family, and where he knew he could find work as an electrician. But when they got there, Dick was convinced that he would have to continue to remain closeted after encountering homophobia on job sites, leading him to believe that he would lose work if anyone discovered that he was gay.

In order to protect Dick (pictured on the right), they decided to buy two homes—one to live in together and another to use as a dummy house for Dick in case any of his fellow workers wanted to come by at the end of the day. They also established a code in case they ran into any of the people Dick worked with while they were out together. Dick’s colleagues called him “Oscar,” so when they were in public and heard someone use the name, Zeek (pictured on the left) would pretend that they did not know each other.

Today, Dick is out to his friends and family. They came to StoryCorps to recall their journey from owners of multiple homes for 13 years, to married owners of a single home together in Eureka Springs, Arkansas.

Tanya James was 17 years old when her father died in 1978. His death left her and her mother, Beryle Hanlin, struggling financially. So they did what so many generations of West Virginians before them had done—they went to work in the coal mines.

At the time, almost 99 percent of miners were men, and some still believed in the old superstition that a woman setting foot in a coal mine brought bad luck. Many also assumed that the few women who took the job only did so to find a husband. Harassment, both verbal and physical, was not uncommon, and a 1979 survey found that more than three-quarters of female coal miners had been sexually propositioned at work, and that 17 percent had been physically attacked.

Both Tanya and Beryle regularly faced hostility from their male colleagues. Early in her career, Tanya was sent to a remote part of the mine with a male colleague who kept trying to touch her. Unable to convince him to stop by simply telling him “No,” Tanya put an end to his behavior by kneeing him in the groin.

But none of this discouraged Tanya and she never considered quitting. Her career underground lasted more than 20 years and she recently became the first woman in her union’s 124-year history elected to international office. She came to StoryCorps with her daughters, Trista James (above left) and Michelle Paugh (above right), to tell them what it was like for her early in her mining career.

Since the Academy of Motion Picture Arts & Sciences announced the nominees for the 2016 Oscars, there has been outrage both online and in the press. For the second year in a row, all 20 individuals nominated in the acting categories are white. The outcry has been so great that the Academy’s governing board voted to add new members in order to increase diversity in the coming years.

For some African Americans who have spent decades around the film industry, this continues to spotlight an age-old problem.

Willie Harris and Alex Brown came to Hollywood in the 1960s dreaming of breaking into the movies as stuntmen. Both were athletic and strong, but despite their qualifications, stunt coordinators repeatedly turned them away.

Realizing that movie studios had little interest in hiring black stuntmen—many wouldn’t even open stages and gyms for them to practice in—they continued to hone their skills training and practicing in public parks around Los Angeles. They would leap from bleachers onto donated mattresses and practice elaborate driving maneuvers using rented cars.

Eventually, Willie and Alex were able to break into the industry. They became original members of the Black Stuntmen’s Association spending decades in Hollywood taking and throwing punches in films like The Color Purple and the James Bond classic Live and Let Die.

Willie and Alex came to StoryCorps to remember how they broke into the movies.

In the 1964 presidential election, Republican Senator Barry Goldwater from Arizona ran against Democratic incumbent Lyndon Johnson who had assumed office following the assassination of President John F. Kennedy. LBJ won in a landslide, but there was another candidate in the race who has largely been forgotten by history: Mrs. Yetta Bronstein, a Jewish housewife from the Bronx.

One reason Mrs. Bronstein remains absent from the history books is that although she ran, she didn’t actually exist. She was the creation of professional media pranksters Alan and Jeanne Abel. The husband and wife team cooked up Yetta while doing a nightclub act, and decided she should run for the highest office in the land. Registering her as a write-in candidate, she was listed as a member of the Best Party, with a platform that included national bingo and lowering the voting age to 18 so that juvenile delinquents would have something to do (the 26th Amendment was ratified 1971).

Jeanne, a gifted improviser, posed as Yetta, promising voters 16 ounces in every pound and offering free hot dogs and bagels in exchange for votes. She only gave reporters radio interviews because unlike Jeanne who was in her 20s, Yetta was the middle-aged wife of a New York City cab driver. At one point during the campaign, she wrote to President Johnson offering to end her run if he would name her as his running mate (Click here to read Yetta’s letter). Alan, her campaign manager, perpetuated the ruse by using a photo of his own Jewish mother in their election materials.

The Yetta Bronstein hoax is just one of scores of pranks the Abels orchestrated over the past 60 years. The one they are best known for is attempting to advance the Society for Indecency to Naked Animals (SINA), which aimed, in the name of morality, to put pants on the world’s creatures. SINA’s slogan was, “A nude horse is a rude horse.”

Proving that no prank can go too far, Alan once even faked his own death, leading to a January 2, 1980, obituary in The New York Times. Two days later, for the first time in their history, the newspaper of record ran a retraction of an obituary explaining, “An obituary in The New York Times on Wednesday reported incorrectly that Alan Abel was dead. Mr. Abel held a news conference yesterday…”

The audio for this story includes archival recordings of live radio appearances Jeanne made during the 1964 and 1968 presidential campaigns when Yetta ran a second time for president. In between her runs at the White House, Yetta also ran for mayor of New York City, a seat in Britain’s parliament, and wrote a book, The President I Almost Wasby Yetta Bronstein. Years later, their daughter, Jenny Abel, produced and directed a film about her father titled “Able Raises Cain.”

Asked if they’d consider running Yetta against the current field of presidential hopefuls, Jeanne responded, “The comedy is already happening.”

Jeanne and Alan sat down for StoryCorps in their rural Connecticut home. Surrounded by countless boxes filled with documentation of their life’s work, they tell the true story behind their fake candidate.

This past weekend marked the official opening of the 2016 Major League Baseball season. And while the games now count in the standings, it won’t be until the weather warms up that the competition on the field will really heat up. But in the stands, there is a battle taking place that won’t wait until summer: the fight to be top vendor.

As anyone who has ever been to a baseball game knows, vendors roam the stands offering anything from hot dogs and peanuts, to scorecards and foam fingers. They are in a head-to-head competition with each other to sell the most of whatever product they are assigned, and one of the all-time greats is a man known as “Fancy Clancy.”

As a teenager, Clarence Haskett began selling soda at Baltimore Orioles games back when they played their home games at Memorial Stadium (the team moved to their current home, Camden Yards, in 1992). Over the years, he worked his way up to the vendor’s most prized offering—beer.

During his 43-year long career, Clancy has used his quickness and his gift of gab to sell more than a million beers to baseball fans—a number we believe makes him Hall of Fame worthy.

Clancy came to StoryCorps with his friend and former coworker, Jerry Collier, to talk about their work and how he got started.

Clancy’s story is one of 53 work stories featured in our new book, Callings: The Purpose and Passion of Work.

Click here to pre-order Callings before April 19, 2016, and get great gifts from StoryCorps.

For 14 years, Barbara Abelhauser got up each day and went to work in an office. She hated her job, and finally, one day she quit, reasoning, “I could get hit by a bus tomorrow. And if that happens, I want to have woken up that day and not thought, ‘I don’t want to go to work.’ ”

Her next job was nothing like the one before; it didn’t require her to put on pantyhose or navigate tricky office politics—Barb became a bridgetender. Sitting in a booth called a tenderhouse over the Ortega River in Jacksonville, Florida, she opened and closed the bridge to allow boats to pass from one side to the other. Her office now consisted of a console with buttons and the walls were so close that she couldn’t even fully stretch out her arms. But windows surrounded her and from her perch on top of the bridge she had “the most gorgeous view in the entire city.”

The bridge over the Ortega River requires that a bridgetender always be on duty, but that doesn’t mean that passersby were always aware of Barb’s presence. The position requires both patience and vigilance, and from her spot she became familiar with the people (joggers, fishermen and couples out for romantic strolls), and the animals (birds, manatee, and alligators), that spend their days on and around the bridge. She was “getting paid to stop and look.”

When she took the job, Barb didn’t expect to be a bridgetender for more than a year, but for the next 14 years, she watched the sun rise and set on the river from the tenderhouse. She now documents her observations and experiences on her blog, “The View from a Drawbridge.” In 2014, Barb left Jacksonville and moved to Seattle, Washington, where she continues to bridgetend.

Barb came to StoryCorps with her friend, John Maycumber, to explain why she fell in love with her job.

Barb’s story is one of 53 work stories featured in our new book,Callings: The Purpose and Passion of Work.

Click here to pre-order Callings before April 19, 2016, and get great gifts from StoryCorps.

Vito de la Cruz’s parents were already separated when he was born, and when he was 6 months old, his father left him in the care of his 19-year-old aunt, Iris de la Cruz, a woman he called Nena.

Vito’s extended family traveled the migrant trail, finding work on farms across the United States. At 5 years old, Vito joined them in the fields. He remembers the excitement of traveling in the summers with his aunts, uncles, and grandmother from tomato fields in South Texas, to cherry orchards in Ohio, and sugar beet farms in North Dakota. During the days, they worked side-by-side, and in the evenings, they gathered together for dinner.

But their family’s migrant lifestyle was not easy; it was “equal parts hardship and poverty.” When he was 13, Border Patrol agents raided the farm where Vito and his family were working and rounded up undocumented workers. Witnessing workers’ fear of law enforcement struck a “profound chord in his being” and changed the course of his life.

Vito had always excelled in school, with Nena’s encouragement. She, herself, was the first person in the de la Cruz family to graduate high school, and she later went on to college. Following Nena’s example, Vito left South Texas for Yale University and then went on to attend law school at the University of California, Berkeley.

After law school, Vito began volunteering with the United Farm Workers union and focused the early part of his legal career on immigrant and farmworker rights. Years later, he became a federal public defender in Nevada before moving to Bellevue, Washington, where he continues to practice civil rights law.

Vito came to StoryCorps with his wife, Maria Sefchick-Del Paso, to remember how his childhood and his loving Nena shaped his future.

Throughout the 1970s, Sharon Long, a single mother raising two kids on her own, worked four and five jobs a day, seven days a week. She hated all the work and was worn out.

When she went to enroll her older daughter in college, she mentioned to a financial aid officer that she wished she could enroll as well, but that she was probably too old. The woman convinced her that it wasn’t too late, and then helped her fill out the paperwork. At 40 years old, Sharon entered the University of Wyoming and began taking classes toward a degree in art.

In order to graduate, Sharon was required to take a course in science, a subject she believed she was not particularly good at. But with guidance from an adviser, she signed up for a physical anthropology class, and started on a path that led her to find her calling as a forensic artist—using her skills as a sculptor to recreate human faces from skulls.

Over the course of her career, Sharon has worked for museums—she once constructed a face from a skull that was more than 9,000 years old, and for numerous law enforcement agencies, using found skulls to help put a face to unidentified remains. She has also made busts for the National Geographic Society and the Smithsonian, and her work has been featured on the History channel and the television show America’s Most Wanted.

Now 75, Sharon retired about four years ago, but hasn’t been able to bring herself to completely stop working. She focuses her energy now on the protection of archaeological sites through her work at the Wyoming State Historic Preservation Office.

Sharon came to StoryCorps with her friend and colleague Steven Sutter (pictured together above) to talk about her passion for forensic art.

Sharon’s story is one of 53 work stories featured in our new book, Callings: The Purpose and Passion of Work. Click here to order Callings today.

In her early 50s, Carolyn Shoemaker began a career in astronomy. While she had no formal training, she did have the support and encouragement of her husband, Eugene “Gene” Shoemaker. Gene was a renowned astrogeologist and one of the founders of the field of planetary science, which studies the geology of planets, asteroids, and other celestial bodies in our solar system.

Together they worked side-by-side for 17 years, taking pictures of the night sky in search of comets and asteroids, and in 1993, along with astronomer David Levy, they made their most significant discovery—Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9. In 1994, Comet Shoemaker-Levy 9, which had broken apart, slammed into Jupiter offering astronomers around the world their first opportunity to see the effects of two solar system bodies colliding.

In total, over the course of her career, Carolyn is credited with discovering more than 800 asteroids and 32 comets.

In 1997, while on an annual field trip to Australia, the car Carolyn and Gene were in was in a head-on collision with another vehicle. Gene died from the accident, and while Carolyn was still in the hospital recovering from her injuries, one of his former students, Dr. Carolyn Porco, contacted her to see what she thought of having Gene’s ashes put on the Moon. Carolyn enthusiastically agreed to the idea and with the help of people Dr. Porco knew at NASA, arrangements were made for his cremated remains to go into space as part of the Lunar Prospector mission in January 1998.

To this day, Gene is the only person whose ashes have been placed on the Moon.

Carolyn continued her work as an astronomer following Gene’s death and has been awarded an honorary doctorate from Northern Arizona University in Flagstaff, and received both the Rittenhouse Medal for outstanding achievement in astronomy, and the NASA Exceptional Scientific Achievement Medal.

At StoryCorps, she talked with her son-in-law, Phred Salazar, about working closely with her husband and her decision to make the Moon his final resting place.

We’re almost three-quarters of the way through what scientists are predicting will be the hottest year on record, so it’s a good time to take a moment to remember those who help keep us cool—air conditioner repair people.

During the 1950s, as AC units were becoming more common sights in U.S. homes, brothers Frank and Harold Mutz were operating a business installing and repairing units. In the 1970s, Frank’s son Thomas took over the business and soon after, Thomas’s son, Frank II, moved to Atlanta and took up the profession as well.

Frank only intended to remain in Atlanta a short time, but working with his father, he found that he had a knack for cooling and heating and ended up staying.

Over the years, their company, Moncrief Heating & Air Conditioning, has grown, and today two of Frank’s three children—Tom and Phil—and his son-in-law, Matt, work alongside him.

Frank and Phil came to StoryCorps in Atlanta to talk about their work; from fixing broken units at churches without AC during Sunday morning sermons, to dealing with cranky customers who need to be turned from unhappy to happy.

Danny Cortez was the founder and pastor of the New Heart Community Southern Baptist Church in La Mirada, California, in 2014 when his 16-year-old son, Drew, told him that he was gay. Up until that time, Danny’s church would either recommend celibacy or reparative therapy--a widely discredited form of treatment that identifies homosexuality as a mental disorder with the goal of converting people to heterosexuality--to congregants who identified themselves as gay or lesbian.

Even before Drew’s coming out, Danny had slowly begun to reevaluate his views on homosexuality and whether he was doing more harm than good. When his neighbor invited him to visit the HIV clinic where he worked, Danny was introduced to a community of people he had not previously known much about. This began, for him, a gradual change of heart.

Years later, as he was driving Drew to school, “Same Love” by Macklemore & Ryan Lewis came on the radio. Danny liked it a lot but didn’t understand that it was a celebration of LGBT love. Drew, encouraged by his father’s affection for the song, then revealed to him that he was gay.

Realizing that they could no longer keep this secret from those they love, Drew posted a video online, and a week later, Danny delivered a sermon to his congregation about his changing views on homosexuality. As a result of the sermon, the Southern Baptist Convention cut ties with Danny’s church and his congregation split leading he and other members to form a separate LGBT inclusive, non-denominational church.

Danny and Drew came to StoryCorps to remember the sermon that changed their lives.

William Chambers’ mother, Ceceley, is an interfaith chaplain who has provided spiritual support to seniors and hospice patients suffering from memory loss and dementia. Her work involves talking with people about their faith, listening to their stories, and praying with them--sometimes up to ten times a day.

Last year William, 9, went to work with his mother while she was visiting with residents of the Boston-area Hebrew Rehabilitation Center. Ceceley knew that many of the residents liked having children around, and they were thrilled to have William there.

At first William was afraid to go to the center, but his experience there left him pleasantly surprised. Among the residents he spent time with was a woman with end-stage Alzheimer’s disease who carried a baby doll with her that she treated like a real child. This didn’t faze William who told his mother, “I think people are free to think whatever they want to think.”

Since his initial visit, William has returned to work with his mother several more times. While Ceceley finds it difficult to say goodbye to the residents at the end of the day, they have taught her the “importance of being present, and the beauty of just little small moments.” William says that his time going to work with his mother has changed how he sees things as well: “They made me think, you should enjoy life as much as you can cause it doesn’t happen forever.”

They came to StoryCorps to discuss the affect Ceceley’s work has had on them both.

[Of the many residents Ceceley has counseled, she felt particularly connected to one man who would sing her love songs and tell her dirty jokes. Listen below to hear one of the love songs.]

For as long as she can remember, Eileen Kushner has had a difficult time reading and doing simple math. Growing up in Detroit the 1950s, she recalls her teachers calling her “stupid” and “lazy,” but no one knew she had a processing disorder until she was tested and diagnosed by a psychiatrist when she was in her mid-30s. “It was like a door in my brain would drop and it wouldn’t allow me to process any of the information.”

After graduating high school, Eileen married Larry Kushner and over time they had three daughters. Eileen hoped that staying out of the workforce would help her hide her learning difficulties, but surviving on the money Larry earned as a bank teller was hard. There were days when their family didn’t have enough food in the refrigerator, so Eileen began to look for a job.

She worked briefly as a secretary but was fired because her notes were riddled with misspellings, and then Larry suggested that she apply for a job at the McDonald’s next to the bank where he worked. Eileen was overjoyed when she got the job and started by making French fries and milkshakes and cleaning the floors. She secretly hoped she would not be promoted because she knew that would mean working at the cash register.

In the 1960s, McDonald’s cashiers manually calculated the cost of an order, and Eileen was afraid that a promotion would lead others to discover her secret -- she wasn’t able to add. But she did so well with her first responsibilities that a promotion to the register soon followed. For Eileen, it was a tragic moment, and she told Larry she was going to quit. That’s when he came up with a solution.

Larry brought home different denominations of bills from the bank, and Eileen brought home Big Mac boxes, French fry containers, and cups, and they began playing McDonald’s at their kitchen counter. Larry would pretend to be the customer and Eileen would practice adding up his order. They did this every day until Eileen felt comfortable enough to accept her promotion.

Eileen moved her way up at McDonald’s eventually becoming a manager and then attending Hamburger University. Together Eileen and Larry have owned five separate McDonald’s restaurants (currently, they own one). Now in their 70s, she credits Larry with their success while he believes that it was her dogged perseverance and hard work that got them to where they are today.

Idella Hansen started driving big rig trucks in 1968 when she was just 18 years old. At the time, she was pregnant and hungry for independence so she filled a tanker with gasoline, took to the road, and to this day has not looked back. Now 66 years old, Idella has been driving for more than four decades, and her best friend is fellow trucker Sandi Talbott.

Sandi, 75, began driving alongside her husband, Jim, in 1979. They drove as partners for years until Jim’s health began to decline and Sandi took over most of the driving. After Jim’s death in 2000, Sandi continued on the road without him, and has now been behind the wheel for over three decades.

Together, Idella (top left) and Sandi (top right) have driven over 9 million miles hauling everything from missiles to tadpoles. At StoryCorps they discuss their friendship, their adventures, and why they’ll never retire.

Fred Taylor was the Senior Manager of Proactive Customer Communications for Southwest Airlines -- his job was to communicate with angry customers facing an array of travel issues. At StoryCorps, Fred recalls in conversation with his wife, Julie, some extraordinary cases in which he stepped in as "The Sorry Man."

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Father Noel Hickie was working as a hospital chaplain when he met Marcia Hilton, a bereavement counselor, at a hospital in Eugene, Oregon. For 25 years, they often worked together on the hospice team, helping patients and their families through illness and death.

But when they first started, neither was sure if they were cut out for the work.

Father Noel Hickie was working as a hospital chaplain when he met Marcia Hilton, a bereavement counselor, at a hospital in Eugene, Oregon. For 25 years, they often worked together on the hospice team, helping patients and their families through illness and death.
But when they first started, neither was sure if they were cut out for the work.
Marcia retired in 2013, Father Noel in 2015.

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When Wally Funk was 8 years old, she jumped off the roof of her barn while wearing a Superman cape, hoping to fly. That desire never left her, and as an adult she became a pilot and flight instructor. But for Wally, the ultimate destination was always outer space.

She almost got the chance to go in 1961. That year, she was part of a group of female pilots who took part in tests to determine if women were fit for space travel. The project was run by the same doctor who developed tests for NASA astronauts.

The women, who became known as the Mercury 13, passed many of the same tests as the men, but never got to go to space. More than half a century later, Wally Funk hasn’t given up.

She was interviewed in Dallas by one of her flight students, Mary Holsenbeck.

Wally bought a ticket for Richard Branson’s Virgin Galactic and hopes to be onboard its maiden voyage into space.

When Wally Funk was 8 years old, she jumped off the roof of her barn while wearing a Superman cape, hoping to fly. That desire never left her, and as an adult she became a pilot and flight instructor. But for Wally, the ultimate destination was always outer space.
She almost got the chance to go in 1961. That year, she was part of a group of female pilots who took part in tests to determine if women were fit for space travel. The project was run by the same doctor who developed tests for NASA astronauts.
The women, who became known as the Mercury 13, passed many of the same tests as the men, but never got to go to space. More than half a century later, Wally Funk hasn’t given up.
She was interviewed in Dallas by one of her flight students, Mary Holsenbeck.
Wally bought a ticket for Richard Branson’s Virgin Galactic and hopes to be onboard its maiden voyage into space.

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Kyle Cook and Carla Saunders are neonatal nurse practitioners at East Tennessee Children’s Hospital in Knoxville.

They’ve spent decades caring for infants, but when the opioid crisis began to hit in 2010, their jobs changed in ways they never anticipated.

Tennessee has seen a sharp increase in babies born with Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome (NAS), a condition marked by tremors and constant shaking in babies who experience withdrawal. In fact, over the past decade, the incidence of babies born with NAS in the state has risen nearly ten-fold.

Kyle and Carla came to StoryCorps to remember when they began to notice how this affected their patients firsthand.

Over the past several years, Kyle and Carla helped establish one of the first treatment protocols for babies exposed to opioids, as well as a program connecting mothers with treatment and therapy.

Kyle Cook and Carla Saunders are neonatal nurse practitioners at East Tennessee Children’s Hospital in Knoxville.
They’ve spent decades caring for infants, but when the opioid crisis began to hit in 2010, their jobs changed in ways they never anticipated.
Tennessee has seen a sharp increase in babies born with Neonatal Abstinence Syndrome (NAS), a condition marked by tremors and constant shaking in babies who experience withdrawal. In fact, over the past decade, the incidence of babies born with NAS in the state has risen nearly ten-fold.
Kyle and Carla came to StoryCorps to remember when they began to notice how this affected their patients firsthand.
Over the past several years, Kyle and Carla helped establish one of the first treatment protocols for babies exposed to opioids, as well as a program connecting mothers with treatment and therapy.

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Air travel can be a stressful experience for just about anyone. But for 26-year-old Russell Lehmann, a flight delay or cancellation isn’t just a small inconvenience. He was diagnosed with autism at age 12, and unexpected changes can cause him to have a meltdown — when sensory overload causes him to lose control and break down crying.

That’s what happened when he tried to catch a flight from Reno, Nevada to Cincinnati. At StoryCorps, Russell sat down with David Apkarian, an airline employee, to remember that difficult day.

Russell is a poet and advocate for autism awareness who regularly speaks about his experiences on the autism spectrum. Learn more about him and his work here.

Air travel can be a stressful experience for just about anyone. But for 26-year-old Russell Lehmann, a flight delay or cancellation isn’t just a small inconvenience. He was diagnosed with autism at age 12, and unexpected changes can cause him to have a meltdown — when sensory overload causes him to lose control and break down crying.
That’s what happened when he tried to catch a flight from Reno, Nevada to Cincinnati. At StoryCorps, Russell sat down with David Apkarian, an airline employee, to remember that difficult day.
Russell is a poet and advocate for autism awareness who regularly speaks about his experiences on the autism spectrum. Learn more about him and his work here.

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During the 1940s, custodians who worked for the New York Public Library often lived inside the buildings they tended. In exchange for cleaning and keeping the building secure at night, the library provided an apartment for the custodian and their families.

Ronald Clark’s father, Raymond, was one of those custodians. For three decades he lived with his family on the top floor of the Washington Heights branch on St. Nicholas Avenue in upper Manhattan. Three generations of the Clark family resided in that library until Ronald’s father retired in the late 1970s.

After college, Ronald got a position as a professor teaching history at Cape Cod Community College.

At StoryCorps, Ronald told his daughter, Jamilah Clark, how living inside the library shaped the man he would become.

During the 1940s, custodians who worked for the New York Public Library often lived inside the buildings they tended. In exchange for cleaning and keeping the building secure at night, the library provided an apartment for the custodian and their families.
Ronald Clark’s father, Raymond, was one of those custodians. For three decades he lived with his family on the top floor of the Washington Heights branch on St. Nicholas Avenue in upper Manhattan. Three generations of the Clark family resided in that library until Ronald’s father retired in the late 1970s.
After college, Ronald got a position as a professor teaching history at Cape Cod Community College.
At StoryCorps, Ronald told his daughter, Jamilah Clark, how living inside the library shaped the man he would become.

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Many StoryCorps conversations touch on love, work, and death. But when Lynne Houston and her husband, Greg, sat down for their interview, they covered all of that and more just by talking about their first date.

They met 25 years ago in Buffalo, New York. Lynne worked at a restaurant across the street from the funeral home where Greg was a mortician.

Greg charmed Lynne, despite his work bleeding into their romance. When Greg picked her up for dates, he would sometimes be accompanied by an occasional corpse from the hospital. After six months, the couple took a romantic weekend away and drove through upstate New York — in his hearse.

Lynne and Greg eventually married on All Souls Day and now live in McLeansville, North Carolina, where they recorded with StoryCorps.

Many StoryCorps conversations touch on love, work, and death. But when Lynne Houston and her husband, Greg, sat down for their interview, they covered all of that and more just by talking about their first date.
They met 25 years ago in Buffalo, New York. Lynne worked at a restaurant across the street from the funeral home where Greg was a mortician.
Greg charmed Lynne, despite his work bleeding into their romance. When Greg picked her up for dates, he would sometimes be accompanied by an occasional corpse from the hospital. After six months, the couple took a romantic weekend away and drove through upstate New York — in his hearse.
Lynne and Greg eventually married on All Souls Day and now live in McLeansville, North Carolina, where they recorded with StoryCorps.

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In the late 1960s, Karen Offutt was a patriotic teenager who got chills whenever she heard the “Star-Spangled Banner.” At 18, she dropped out of nursing school to enlist in the U.S. Army and was deployed to Vietnam.
As a stenographer, Karen was given top secret “eyes only” clearance working for high-ranking generals. Her duties included everything from typing and transcribing to serving tea.

At StoryCorps, Karen spoke with her daughter Kristin about her time at war.

In the late 1960s, Karen Offutt was a patriotic teenager who got chills whenever she heard the “Star-Spangled Banner.” At 18, she dropped out of nursing school to enlist in the U.S. Army and was deployed to Vietnam.
As a stenographer, Karen was given top secret “eyes only” clearance working for high-ranking generals. Her duties included everything from typing and transcribing to serving tea.
At StoryCorps, Karen spoke with her daughter Kristin about her time at war.

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Ginnie Peters remembers her husband, Matt Peters, who committed suicide in May of 2011 after farming for more than 35 years. She spoke with Trent Andrews, the man who took over the farm after his death.

Ginnie Peters remembers her husband, Matt Peters, who committed suicide in May of 2011 after farming for more than 35 years. She spoke with Trent Andrews, the man who took over the farm after his death.

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The longest-running ice cream man, Allan Ganz, has been selling sweet treats since he was 10 years old. He shares with his wife, Rosalyn Ganz, how he got his start in the business and how he’s kept going for 71 years.

The longest-running ice cream man, Allan Ganz, has been selling sweet treats since he was 10 years old. He shares with his wife, Rosalyn Ganz, how he got his start in the business and how he’s kept going for 71 years.

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In 2017, Heather Heyer was killed while protesting against a white nationalist rally in Charlottesville, Virginia. Her supervisor from the law office she worked in, Alfred Wilson, sat down with her mother, Susan Bro, to remember her.

AW: Heather was very honest with me and told me, ’I don’t type. I’ve never worked in an office. All I’ve done all my life is bartend or waitress.’

SB: So you took a chance.

AW: Yeah. She could communicate with anyone. And, you know, I’m a black male and I might walk out to meet a client and Heather would notice that sometimes they didn’t shake my hand, and that would just infuriate her. And I’m like, ’Where does she get this from?’ Because she grew up in this little small place that’s not that diverse.

SB: She comes from a long line of stubborn people — stubborn and opinionated and not afraid to say so.

That day of the rally, what time did I call you from the hospital?

AW: About two o’clock. I remember my wife told me, ’Oh my God, Alfred. Do you see what happened on the TV?’ And she didn’t know that I was on the phone talking to you. I remember thinking, ’She’s going to tell me that Heather’s hurt.’ But you didn’t tell me that. And then everything was so quiet like somebody had shut the volume control off on the world.

SB: For me, losing my daughter was like, you’ll have a lot of tears one time then you’ll go numb for awhile. And, uh, I’m glad you’re finally able to let some of yours out because you worried me there for awhile.

AW: Yeah. In May, I was going to have two kids graduating at the same time, and all I could think was I wanted her to be there.

SB: Yeah.

AW: But one of the plus sides was when you showed up to the graduation party.

SB: Your family was very welcoming but I kept thinking, ’Heather’s the one that should be here.’

AW: Yeah.

SB: For me, grief is like standing in the shallows of the ocean, knee-deep in the water. Every so often a wave will wash over. And so I allow myself to cry and be really sad while that wave is there. But I know that it will go away, and that’s what gets me through.

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Irakere Picon is an immigration lawyer who often defends undocumented immigrants. He happens to be an undocumented immigrant himself. He came to StoryCorps with his wife Arianna Hermosillo to discuss how that impacts their relationship.

Irakere Picon is an immigration lawyer who often defends undocumented immigrants. He happens to be an undocumented immigrant himself. He came to StoryCorps with his wife Arianna Hermosillo to discuss how that impacts their relationship.